


As Sweet as Coffee and Cake

by oceans_and_lovers



Category: Victoria (TV)
Genre: A bit of Nancy/Francatelli, A bit of Vicbert, Alfred's a cute barista/waiter, Drummond's a politics student, Every fandom needs a coffeee shop au, I Don't Even Know, Lots of cake and love, M/M, They fall in love so quickly because they're soul mates okay, Who knows maybe some Christmas, happiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2019-01-21 09:19:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12454311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceans_and_lovers/pseuds/oceans_and_lovers
Summary: "Usually, the Palace Café worked it's magic and his essays were produced on time and in good caffeine-induced quality. But today, Edward had put his head on the table with only an hour of work under his belt and hadn't moved for a good twenty minutes.This paper was going to be the end of him."-A coffee shop au where Drummond is a stressed student, Alfred is the new cute barista and they share lots of cake and coffee. Happiness ensues!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Poem for this fic:
> 
> It’s on the tip of his tongue  
> He can taste it  
> so sweet yet not  
> lodged against his teeth.
> 
> Still it sits there.
> 
> And he hides it behind  
> soft smiles and loud laughs.
> 
>  
> 
> This is my first attempt at a longer piece of fanfiction so wish me luck and I'm sorry if it's terrible!  
> Heads up - I've never been to university, nor have I worked as a barista, I'll be doing my research, but it is just a loose setting to allow fluff and love to happen as these two deserve it!

 

That's it, he thought.

This paper was going to kill him and it wasn't even eight o’clock yet.

 

Edward slumped forwards onto the table, rattling the empty coffee cups which were strewn haphazardly around and on top of his files and discarded biros.

The Palace Café was quiet that evening as most students were away for the Christmas holidays, and those who had been forced to stay had long since become too drunk to leave their rooms. 

Yet here Edward was, having to write the damned essay he'd had for months yet had never bothered doing. Had never bothered doing, that is, until he’d looked up and realised the essay's deadline was barrelling towards him and the word document for it was still empty - still completely and utterly blank.

Edward banged his head on the table again, causing a biro, long since abandoned, to fall to the café's tiled floor.

He'd liked university from the moment he'd arrived, and had soon grown to love it once he'd found friends with the same passion for politics that he had himself. The course was insanely challenging, the work load tough but, after all, he'd known what he was getting into from the moment he'd applied and, now in his second year, Edward was used to it all.

The city was good too and he’d made several exciting discoveries - like when, as he was wandering the streets one night in his first term, he'd happened upon The Palace Café, tucked away and very much awake despite the hour.

It had soon become a haunt of his, with its free Wi-Fi and kindness when it came to allowing stressed students to not move from the same spot for hours, whilst in that time only purchasing a few cheap coffees to keep them alive.

The nice staff were a bonus, helpfully prodding Edward awake if he drifted off mid essay, as the Café, much to his surprise, was open practically all the time and for him was a better place to work in than the library, which had half-crazed first years typing out essays at one in the morning – in the café, Edward was the only crazy student there.

Usually, the Café worked it's magic and his essays were produced on time and in good caffeine-induced quality. But today Edward had put his head on the table with only an hour of work under his belt and hadn't moved for a good twenty minutes.

This paper was going to be the end of him.

 

-

 

The staff were beginning to get worried. 

 

“I told you, Emma, he’s not usually this bad.”

The staff at the Palace Café had a special soft spot for Edward Drummond because, according to Nancy: he was cute, tipped well and looked half way to death whenever he came to work in the café‘s dim back corner.

Harriet worried her lip and cleaned the work surface as Emma sighed, ignoring her complaints and focusing instead on plating up scones for the Duchess – the old woman by the window the staff had collectively nicknamed ‘the Duchess’ due to her penchant for scones and moaning righteously about anything and everything. 

“Look, Harry, if I don’t get this to the Duchess she’s gonna start squawking, but when I get back you can worry to me all you want.”

Emma then slipped out from behind the counter and wandered over to the Duchess, as Harriet continued throwing glances at Drummond, who, much to her concern, still had his head on the table and had seemingly died.

 

“Harriet, focus on working,” Albert said, as he came through the kitchen to inspect the staff,

“And Nancy, don’t forget to go through everything with Paget when he arrives.”

With that, he went to the back of the café again where Victoria was attempting to bake - he was mildly concerned that Francatelli was going to start yelling, and a fire occurring was always a distinct possibility whenever his wife cooked.

 

Nancy had heard her name but had kept wiping the café’s empty tables waiting, as she was, for the newbie to arrive.

And ten minutes later, he did.

 

The door swung open and a gust of cold wind filled the café, much to its occupants’ protests, and a young man, with blonde hair and bright eyes, pulled off his scarf and approached the counter with as much confidence as he could gather.

“Hello, I’m Alfred, I believe you're expecting me? I’m new.”

He smiled at the woman eyeing him from behind the counter and took several deep breaths to calm his scattered nerves - he’d had countless part time jobs, but each one still scared him when he was first starting out.

“Alfred!” He turned slightly and a woman then proceeded to pull him into a hug and said, as she pulled back,

“I’m Nancy, I’ll be showing you the ropes. That’s Harriet and Emma,” 

She pointed to the women in turn, and continued,

“Albert and Vic are in the back, no doubt making out, and the chef, Mr Francatelli, is in the kitchen obviously.” 

Alfred just stared at her, overwhelmed with all the new information, and Nancy smiled, patting him on the arm and taking his scarf,

“Come on then, I’ll show you everything now before your first shift with me tomorrow.”

 

“Wait a second you two,” Harriet interjected.

“Can one of you give this to Drummond, Emma’s stuck with the Duchess and I’ve got to stay back here.”

The coffee and cake were in Alfred’s hand before he could blink and Nancy just smirked at him, nodded towards whomever Drummond was and went behind the counter – but not before Alfred could have sworn he heard her mutter “Cute boys and cake, what could go wrong.”

Cake in hand, Alfred turned and scoped out the café’s patrons – an old woman with scones, who was loudly complaining to a woman who must have been Emma, a man reading by himself, two young women smiling shyly at him and giggling with each other and, in the far corner, a man with his head on his laptop.

Pulling his shoulders back, Alfred slowly edged round the tables and stood before the dying man.

Alfred found himself agreeing that the man seemed cute, and he was clearly a student too, as hinted by the papers scattered on top of the table, as well as the empty coffee cups surrounding him. 

Alfred cleared his throat as it constricted unexpectedly, and he was all too aware of the women staring at him from around the café, his neck quickly becoming warm.

“Excuse me, sir.”

The man in front of him slowly lifted his head to stare at Alfred in confusion, as Alfred thrust the plates he was carrying forwards and said awkwardly,

 

“I, uh, have coffee and cake for you.”


	2. Chapter 2

 

“I, uh, have coffee and cake for you.”

 

-

 

Edward blinked and attempted to focus on the man before him who was already looking at the floor and shifting awkwardly, coffee and cake indeed held in both hands.

“Um, thanks, let me just...”

Trying to pull himself together, Edward dragged one of his hands down his face and, with the other, began moving the mountains of paper on his table to make room for the plates the man was holding. He succeeded a minute or two later, as the young man next to him continued glancing at him and occasionally blushing. Bit odd. 

He’s quite charming when he’s flustered though.

Edward frowned slightly as that thought settled in his mind but he still smiled at the man, taking the plates and placing them onto the table as gently as he could, to avoid making anymore unnecessary mess. 

He’d once knocked over a whole cup of coffee, making the waitress - Nancy - grin at him for weeks afterwards, saying “Careful now Drummond” or bringing him a truly excessive number of napkins alongside his drink.

Cake and coffee settled, Edward turned again towards the stranger who now seemed to be stooping down and reaching beneath the table. 

“This yours?”

And the man was smiling and holding up a biro, no doubt knocked off the table by all of Edward’s shuffling and clumsiness.

He reached out to take it, muttered thanks on his lips, when he locked eyes with the man and found the words just wouldn’t come out.

Their fingers brushed slightly and the stranger was just opening his mouth when –

“Alfred! Stop drooling over Drummond – we have work to do!”

All Edward could think of as the man gasped and turned away, breaking their eye contact and retreating to the counter, was the man’s – Alfred’s – smile, how it had lit up his face and his eyes…

Edward almost knocked over his coffee, distracted with thoughts of Alfred, and quickly resolved to put him out of his mind and to focus. What would Florence say?

That paper isn’t going to write itself.

Edward grimaced.

But, before he submerged himself again in his work, he did make a note to thank this Alfred for the coffee and cake – he’d always had a weakness for chocolate sponge.

 

-

 

“I wasn’t drooling.”

Alfred rubbed the back of his neck as he reached the counter, still embarrassed to have been called out by Nancy for practically mooning over Drummond - Drummond with his obvious coffee addiction and lovely facial features… 

Of course, he couldn’t just act like a normal human being on his first day – for some reason he just had to swoon over the first young man he stumbled across.

The two young women at one of the nearby tables were giggling even louder now and Alfred tried to ignore them, standing with his back to them and pulling himself up to his full height, which wasn’t all that much.

Nancy was still smirking as she pulled him over and began his training, going over everything with such speed that Alfred felt like he’d blinked and they were moving on, as he was already being hauled into the kitchen.

Nancy shouted,

“Franc, meet Alfred, our new cute barista,”

as they entered the kitchen, since it seemed to be overwhelmed with smoke, and two voices were rising in louder volume by the second – 

“Baking doesn’t work like that boss! You can’t just shove it in the oven and hope for the best!”

“Don’t yell at me, I was just helping! You’ll need all the help you can get next week when the Christmas rush begins.”

This continued and Nancy shrugged, before pulling a dazed Alfred back to the front of the café.

 

“So, any questions?”

Alfred could only shake his head, and he was intensely grateful when he heard Harriet whisper,

“I’ll go over it again with you tomorrow, don’t worry.”

 

The café was emptier now at least, meaning Alfred felt he could relax in the sanctuary of the coffee machines and let his gaze wander round the place.

It was a nice, he’d admit, with cream coloured walls and mismatched coffee mugs and furniture giving the place an authentic, cosy feeling.

There were clocks lining the walls, though all weirdly out of sync, and, instead overhead lighting, the owners had obviously chosen to have about a million lamps and even some candles instead.

He’d worked in small cafés like it before, to save up money for his future studies, so he was glad he already had some basic knowledge to complement Nancy’s, uh, training.

He didn't need to be told by Nancy, for example, that actually being a waiter wasn’t hard, it was just shit customers that were hard. Though, Alfred was sure that a place like the Palace Café didn’t get too many assholes. Or at least he hoped so.

 

“You wouldn’t be dreaming about a certain customer, now would you Alfred?”

He jolted and glared at Nancy, who was giggling childishly just like Mina did, whilst Harriet tutted, saying,

“Nancy, don’t be so rude.”

She cocked her eyebrow, and continued,

“Anyway, you’ve daydreamed about Francatelli plenty of times. Remember Mr Penge?”

It was Nancy’s turn now to be embarrassed as she groaned,

“I’d successfully repressed that memory, thanks for that Harriet. I’m never serving tea from a tea pot again. Ever.”

And Alfred was too afraid to ask.

Then Emma smiled sweetly and said, 

“Harriet, get down off that high horse.”

She paused dramatically.

“Remember Ernest?”

Harriet blushed crimson, but the three women still started laughing and Alfred had never felt more out of place yet accepted in his life. 

After an hour of chatting, cleaning and waving goodbye to customers – Nancy elbowed him in the ribs when they saw Drummond smile sheepishly at them as he left – the staff locked up the café, with plans of Christmas decorating and gossip flowing freely between them, and exchanged smiles as they headed home.

Alfred shivered and pulled up his hood, stomach clenching a little as he thought of returning to the café and its customers the next day. 

Probably just nerves.

 

And some snow lightly began to fall as he started his walk home.

 


	3. Chapter 3

15th December

 

"Oh, and a tea please. Medium temperature, with milk. Only a little mind you."

Alfred smiled at the Duchess as he noted down her order, knowing already it was going to be horribly wrong no matter what he did.

His first shift had been considerably better than he'd anticipated - no one had gotten food poisoning, or thrown their drink at him, like at the last place he'd worked. Harriet's brief instructions had been put to the test within minutes but all the coffee machines were still completely fine - no spontaneous fires or anything.

Still, Alfred sighed and pulled his free hand through his hair.

 

Only six hours left. 

 

The café was fuller today, with only two or three tables free and poor Cleary, the new, quiet waitress, hadn't stopped wiping and clearing tables all morning, with Nancy spending her shift decorating the café with ivy and holly, Christmas decorations overwhelming the café steadily throughout the morning. 

 

"Al, you better hurry up. Duchess don't like being kept waiting."

Emma nodded her head towards the window and turned to greet the next customer. Alfred hurriedly picked up the tray carrying the precious tea and scones and delivered it the old lady as she sat and frowned at the children who were, in her opinion, contaminating the café.

 

Alfred glanced out the window to check the weather and his eyes, really of their own accord, became riveted on the figure trudging along the pavement towards the café, struggling with their books.

 

It had to be Drummond. Surely.

 

Alfred felt giddy now, memories of the day before crowding his thoughts, and he practically ran to the café door to hold it open for the young man as he stumbled over the threshold, bringing with him a flurry of December snow.

 

They stood close together then, one breathing heavily and the other hardly breathing at all, and Alfred's smile fell as, just like before, he noticed the flush of Drummond's cheeks and...

 

"Alfred,"

Drummond broke the spell between them as he addressed Alfred in a stuttering voice,

"I meant to thank you. For the, uh, the cake. Yesterday. Thanks for that."

"That's fine Drummond, it was Harriet anyway.”

Alfred shrugged as he spoke and said teasingly,

“She really does seem quite concerned about your welfare."

 

And the two men laughed quietly together.

Then Drummond touched Alfred’s arm in goodbye before heading over to his usual table and settling down, all as Alfred blinked slowly and leaned back against the wall.

His heart was pounding in his chest and he foolishly felt a little lightheaded, and Alfred decided that it might just be the effect Drummond had on him. 

He took a deep breath and returned to Emma's knowing grin as he shoved her lightly and continued his work - he was paid to be a barista after all, not a door stop.

 

Yet, Alfred smiled stupidly to himself nonetheless. 

 

 

“Hey, Harriet.”

She turned at Alfred’s voice and he nodded towards the cafés back corner.

“How long’s it been since Drummond ordered anything?”

“Two and a half hours.”

“No one’s keeping track of course,” 

muttered Nancy, as she hung up mistletoe over the counter, and Harriet blushed.

“You can manage here can’t you? If I took him something. It would save you the trouble after all.”

Nodding quickly, Harriet began to serve the next customer and Alfred made the best coffee he could before smoothing down his uniform and walking past the café’s empty tables to Drummond.

Don’t embarrass yourself Alfred. Not again.

 

“Coffee?”

Eyes lighting up, Drummond reached out to take the cup, gulping it down before ducking his head and mumbling,

“I really need to tip Harriet more.”

“Actually, it was me today Drummond.”

Their eyes met.

“Your work related crises are important to all the staff, even me.”

Drummond seemed embarrassed at that and Alfred reassured him by placing his hand on his shoulder and lightly squeezing it, before leaning down and whispering,

“Your tips are enough to make anyone concerned about your health.”

Drummond snorted and knocked his head against Alfred’s whilst Alfred became aware of a certain tightness in his chest.

He straightened quickly and excused himself, and within minutes was distracted with new customers as he avoided Drummond’s gaze.

 

   
***

17th December

 

The weather had been getting colder, snowflakes falling faster and faster as Edward slipped along the icy pavements to the Palace Café for the third day in a row.

He usually alternated between his room and the café, but for the past few days he’d felt more drawn to the café, only being able to truly settle down and work in the café’s back corner.

Even then, he hadn’t worked quite as well yesterday as he’d been distracted, thinking as he was about the new barista – Alfred – who’d been absent all day and Edward had only written some hundred words, staring at the counter and the door more than he’d like to admit. It baffled him a little as he never usually acted like that, least of all over someone he hardly knew…

Thinking of Alfred, Edward’s lips curled upwards before he coughed into his gloves. Damned cold.

 

Reaching the café, Edward collected himself and pushed the door open, a bell chiming as he hurriedly shuffled inside and looked around at the Christmas decorations covering every inch of the café’s interior.

 

He coughed again and searched for a tissue as he headed towards his usual spot.

 

He’d been making good progress with his essay, ignoring his depressingly empty coffee cups and growling stomach as he coughed and typed away, when he heard a chuckle next to him and looked up to see the Alfred with a coffee cup in each hand.

“Mind if I join you?”

Edward was already nodding, and Alfred’s eyes crinkled as he sat beside him, placing a coffee cup next to Edward’s overheating laptop.

“I don’t think I ever asked Drummond, do you even like lattes? I keep making them for you, not knowing if they’re what you like.”

Alfred was leaning back against his seat, head turned towards Edward and Edward mirrored him, saving his work and shutting his laptop.

“To be honest Alfred, I’d drink whatever you gave me.”

And as the silence grew, Edward shifted and added,

“Lattes are fine, by the way.”

 

Alfred nodded whilst sipping his coffee and avoided Edward’s eyes.

Edward could feel questions rising in his throat – questions about Alfred, how he liked his coffee, his plans for Christmas.

But he settled for –

“Busy yesterday?”

Alfred smiled and said,

“Fulfilling best friend duties, I’m afraid. She needed to relax – spends too much time studying, so I dragged her out to the theatre.”

 

Involuntarily, Edward sighed in relief. Then he coughed.

 

Alfred glanced at him,

“Though Drummond, I think you need to relax – you’re clearly ill.”

Edward sniffed then groaned, cursing his luck, and Alfred laughed as he bumped their shoulders together.

 

A few minutes later, as Alfred’s break ended, Edward watched him disappear into the café’s kitchen and he leaned back, staring at the door, his heart beat loud in his ears.

 

   
***

18th December 

 

The Palace Café was practically empty despite the season, with only a few tables occupied but Alfred knew Drummond was still here – they’d started exchanging subtle glances whenever Victoria raised her voice, or one of the staff suggested something particularly extravagant.

 

This was because the entire staff of the Palace Café staff were gathered around one of the café’s larger tables, scribbling and discussing the plans for their annual Christmas party and the stress was tangible in the air – it was only four days away. 

“Okay, everybody calm down. Albert, what do we need to decide on?”

Victoria sighed as Albert flicked through his extensive notes – how’d he even gotten that many? – and began reading.

“We need to choose: What food we’re getting, who’ll set everything up, who’ll tidy away, the music and the general decorations too.”

 

The meeting continued and ended up with Victoria and Albert arguing, Nancy and Cleary lining the counters with tinsel and singing, Harriet offering helpful but ignored solutions and Emma grinning at Alfred as he once again looked over to the corner of the café.

“Everyone, exchange numbers.”

Victoria was standing up now, hands on her hips.

“We’ll let you know what you need to do and the timings. See you all tomorrow.”

And with that, she pulled on her coat and dragged Albert out, telling Emma to lock up once the café was empty of customers.

 

After that the staff slowly disappeared into the night - Nancy was still singing as she left to get a lift home with a laughing Francatelli, Harriet offered to drive Cleary home and soon, only Alfred and Emma were left, with Drummond asleep at the back of the café and a couple holding hands, oblivious to the late hour.

“Alfred, could you lock up? I got to get back home.”

Emma was wiping her hands as she looked at him, and he responded,

“Sure Emma, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

So, she soon left, patting Alfred on the shoulder and promising to text, as did the couple, who murmured their goodbyes as they walked out into the cold rain.

 

And the Palace Café was quiet except for Drummond’s soft snoring and Alfred’s sharp breaths as he clenched his fists and smoothed his hair before moving slowly, ever so slowly, over to Drummond.

 

He looked so peaceful, Alfred thought, his head resting on his arms, shoulders hunched and face relaxed in sleep.

Leaning back against the seat next to Drummond, Alfred could almost feel his heart clench.

He’d know Drummond for a handful of days, and they’d shared glances, coffee and cake and Alfred couldn’t help but feel butterflies whenever he saw Drummond coming into the café. What the hell, they’d only spoken on a few occasions, yet, Alfred knew, he hadn’t smiled so much in weeks.

 

Alfred shook himself and decided to call Mina later, before he reached over and gently touched Drummond’s shoulder to wake him.

“Edward. Drummond!”

 

The man finally opened his eyes and lifted his head, clearly groggy, and said Alfred’s name, causing Alfred’s breathing to hitch.

 

“Drummond, it’s probably time to go.”

 

And Drummond stretched, hitting the side of Alfred’s face as he did so.

“Alfred! Uh, sorry…”

 

But Alfred was already bent over laughing and Drummond apologised, resting his face on Alfred’s shuddering shoulder, and he too began to laugh. 

“Come on Drummond, I’ll help you get packed up.”

The two men could hardly stop glancing at one another and giggling, and Alfred could feel his heart stutter.

They both put the chairs up and marvelled at the tinsel trailing across the entire café and the candy canes propped up against the till.

 

“Why are you here so late?”

Alfred looked over at Drummond as he closed the café’s door and switched off the lights, and could hardly focus on the question when he realised Drummond was so close, their noses almost touching. 

Drummond’s breath was hot on Alfred’s cheek as he bent his neck to search out Alfred’s eyes in the dark, both of them huddling together to escape the rain and the cold.

 

“Someone had to lock up, Drummond. And anyway, I was helping plan the party.”

“Oh yeah.”

 

Drummond bit his lips but made no move to widen the distance between them and Alfred instinctively tilted his head upwards.

“Do you need any help? With the planning?”

His forehead had creased as he asked and Alfred could practically feel his nerves, and he rushed to say,

“Sure. Do you want my number? I can text you.”

Obviously, Alfred.

But he didn’t care, as Drummond released the breath he must have been holding and pulled out his phone so they could exchange numbers.

 

And Alfred knew he’d memorise the number. Just in case.

 

The silence grew as they stood close together, sharing each other’s air, and Alfred said, 

“So, um, where do you live?”

“Just down Oliver Street, you?”

“Same, you have an umbrella or something?”

“Well, no.”

 

Alfred sighed in mock exasperation, prompting Drummond to laugh again but Alfred noticed he soon stopped when Alfred pulled of his coat, exposing his worn t-shirt, and held it over both their heads. Or tried to.

 

They then ventured out into the winter rain, Drummond stooping beneath the scant protection the coat offered and walking pressed against Alfred, ribcage to ribcage, both men smiling and laughing and looking at each other before quickly looking at the pavement or out at the sleeping city and its bright lights.

 

“This is me.”

Alfred grudgingly put his coat back on as Drummond stepped away, pulling his keys and phone from his pocket, his face falling as he saw the screen.

Alfred’s eyebrows creased and he knew Drummond must have seen as he jerked his head and said,

“Don’t worry. It’s nothing. Just Florence.”

 

“Florence?”

 

And Drummond just smiled tightly and retreated inside his block of flats, leaving Alfred alone in the rain, breathing heavily and pressing a hand against his heart.

 


	4. Chapter 4

18th December

 

[10:03 PM – FLORENCE]  
Edward, I need your help.

[10:05 PM – FLORENCE]  
EDWARD

[10:10 PM – FLORENCE]  
It’s about your mum.

[10:15 PM – FLORENCE]  
If you’re drooling over that barista instead of replying, I will not be held accountable for my actions.

[10:17 PM – FLORENCE]  
Just confess your love and text me back.

[10:18 PM – FLORENCE]  
Fine.

 

[10:47 PM – EDWARD]  
What is it Florence?

 

[10:50 PM – FLORENCE]  
I said, it’s about your mum.

[10:50 PM – FLORENCE]  
Does she expect a Christmas present?

[10:51 PM – FLORENCE]  
From me?

[10:51 PM – FLORENCE]  
I know I’m your step sister so unfortunately I have to get you something… But what about her?

 

[10:55 PM – EDWARD]  
Look I don’t really know, but she seems to like you so maybe just some flowers? Or chocolate?

 

[10:55 PM – FLORENCE]  
Okay thanks :)

[10:56 PM – FLORENCE]  
And have you? Confessed your love?

 

[10:58 PM – EDWARD]  
Very funny Florence

 

[10:58 PM – FLORENCE]  
Seriously though

 

[11:00 PM – EDWARD]  
Well I might have if you hadn’t had texted me saying to. I saw it and freaked :(

 

[11:01 PM – FLORENCE]  
Okay, I’ll drop by tomorrow and we’ll make an action plan

 

[11:02 PM – EDWARD]  
Okay

[11:02 PM – EDWARD]  
Night

 

[11:03 PM – FLORENCE]  
Good night <3

 

***

19th December

 

“Alfred! Pull yourself together!”

Wilhelmina slapped the back of Alfred’s head, and he lifted it off of her coffee table to glare half-heartedly at her. She folded her arms, clearly unimpressed.

“Seriously,” she said,  
“You don’t even know who this girl is!”

“That’s the problem Mina! He might not be gay, or into guys, or whatever.”

Alfred banged his head on the table again and Wilhelmina started shouting,

“Into guys! Well you’re a guy and he’s clearly into you!”

Alfred had come to his best friend’s apartment hoping she’d help him sort out the mess that was his heart, it having been bruised by one word and a tight lipped smile the previous evening.

 

Alfred couldn’t bear thinking about it, yet, had thought of nothing else.

 

“Alfred.”

She reached over to touch his shoulder,

“You really like this guy, don’t you?”

 

He turned around then and sat facing her, trying to swallow down his nerves.

“Mina, I hardly know him”

He sighed 

“But, yes, I like him. A lot”

 

Maybe more than just like…

 

“I know.”

She sighed now too and smiled softly at him,

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this in the three years I’ve known you. Not over a guy you’ve just met. So, that means we have to do something about it.”

She stood up and Alfred could almost see her brain formulating a plan and Alfred smiled in appreciation and affection for his best friend.

“Firstly, we don’t know who this Florence is, right, so don’t jump to conclusions. And secondly, you both clearly like each other, but, if you’re unsure, I would suggest texting him and seeing how he responds and -”

She leaned down and heavily placed her hands on his shoulders, locking eyes with him and continuing,

“- make sure he goes to this Christmas party at the café, so you can look super hot and impress him even more than your barista skills and free cake already have.”

 

And Alfred nodded, feeling a little better as Mina declared a shopping trip was in order as well as chocolate chip ice cream, which, according to Mina, fixed all of life’s problems, to which Alfred couldn’t help but agree.

 

-

 

[9:22 PM – ALFRED]  
Hey Drummond, would you be able to help set up on the afternoon of the 22nd?

 

[9:24 PM – EDWARD]  
Yes of course

[9:24 PM – EDWARD]  
Time?

 

[9:25 PM – ALFRED]  
Party’s 7 – 11, so I’ll meet you there by 5 and you can stay as long as you like

 

[9:26 PM – EDWARD]  
I’ll see you then 

[9:30 PM – EDWARD]  
Are gifts going to be exchanged?

 

[9:30 PM – ALFRED]  
Nancy’s actually put together a Secret Santa list today, so we’ll be swapping those

[9:31 PM – EDWARD]  
That’s a bit last minute!

[9:32 PM – EDWARD]  
Who’ve you got?

 

[9:32 PM – ALFRED]  
She decided she wanted to and nothing was going to stop her…

[9:32 PM – ALFRED]  
Harriet

 

[9:33 PM – EDWARD]  
Got ideas for her gift?

 

[9:33 PM – ALFRED]  
I was thinking Christmas piano music and chocolate ???

 

[9:34 PM – EDWARD]  
Good plan! Should I bring something for everyone then?

 

[9:36 PM – ALFRED]  
It’s up to you Drummond, remember your mounting student debt...

 

[9:36 PM – EDWARD]  
God don’t remind me

[9:37 PM – EDWARD]  
Anything special you’d like, Alfred?

 

[9:39 PM – ALFRED]  
Your help setting up is plenty – though I’d never say no to fancy whiskey or cigars

[9:39 PM – ALFRED]  
Or terrible Christmas socks

 

[9:40 PM – EDWARD]  
Bad habits Alfred tut tut

[9:40 PM – EDWARD]  
I’ll have a look :)

[9:42 PM – EDWARD]  
Do you have a shift tomorrow?

 

[9:42 PM – ALFRED]  
Yes, end of the morning and most of the afternoon, why?

 

[9:43 PM – EDWARD]  
Just wondering

[9:43 PM – EDWARD]  
Anyway I’ve practically lived at the café these past few weeks

 

[9:44 PM – ALFRED]  
Well so have I my friend

[9:45 PM – ALFRED]  
See you tomorrow then

 

[9:45 PM – EDWARD]  
Looking forward to it

[9:47 PM – EDWARD]  
Good night xx

 

[9:50 PM – ALFRED]  
Sweet dreams Drummond  

 

***

20th December

 

Alfred was nervous as he took off his scarf and shook off the snowflakes resting in his hair - he could see Drummond at the counter, shoulders hunched and foot tapping, waiting for his drink.

But before he could even take a breath, Alfred's eyes widened as the young woman behind him in the queue grasped his arm and laughed, rooting Alfred to the spot.

 

Had he been wrong?

 

The woman was pretty in an understated way, blonde hair in a messy bun and a slim figure, not that Alfred was staring.

She stood next to Drummond and whispered in his ear, causing Alfred draw back, and Drummond smiled a little before he collected their drinks and went to sit down.

 

Alfred still hadn't moved, a tidal wave of thoughts crashing through his mind and he blinked. Once. Twice.

 

"Alfred!"

Harriet was frowning and Emma came and laid a hand on Alfred's arm, which he shook off, but she didn't give in, gently leading him over to the counter and taking his scarf, which was still held tightly in his hand.

 

"Alfred, take a deep breath and take off your coat."

He did as he was told and the two women behind the counter glanced at one another, their suspicions having been confirmed.

 

And Emma was about to speak again when -

"Hey, Alfred, I didn't, um, see you. Come in."

 

It was Drummond and Alfred winced as he came over, stirrers in his hand and light in his eyes, which lessened as he took in Alfred's stance and expression.

As Alfred remained silent, wishing his shift was already over, he saw Drummond's eyebrows furrow and his back stiffen, before he returned to his table and girl.

 

Alfred mechanically worked through the beginning of his shift, a stiff smile on his lips, and he stared at the festive decorations, the customers, both visitors and regulars, the street outside - anywhere but the café's dim back corner.

 

"Excuse me, it's Alfred, isn't it?"

His heart sunk as he heard Drummond's… companion address his turned back. Deep breaths.

"Yes, what can I do for you today?"

 

He tried to smile even wider as he faced her, though it didn't reach his eyes, and the girl tilted her head.

"Could I have another latte for Edward please?"

 

Alfred set to work, his fingers trembling, but she remained on the other side of the counter, shifting from foot to foot.

 

"I can bring it over if you'd like."

The words were out before his brain could catch up and he almost covered his mouth in regret.

 

"Thanks, Alfred."

 

Still. Anything to get rid of that girl and her knowing eyes and Alfred was relieved when he heard her footsteps grow quieter as she retreated from the counter.

 

But a thought occurred to him that made him to pause - how did she know his name?

He wasn't wearing a name badge. She couldn't have heard the others calling him Alfred...

 

Drummond?

 

And his foolish heart lightened ever so slightly as he sighed and stepped out into the café, coffee and napkins in his hands.

 

Drummond had his face in his hands, elbows on the table, and his eyes sought out Alfred’s own as Alfred approached the table slowly and with caution.

“Here’s your coffee.”

And as Alfred was putting it on the table, his sleeve must have caught the girl’s coffee cup as it tipped and coffee then spilled over the table, much to Alfred’s horror and embarrassment.

“Oh no! Oh, I’m so sorry let me just…”

Frantically, Alfred grabbed the unaffected napkins and wiped up as much as he could, whilst Drummond lurched from his chair, apologising quickly as he made his way to the toilets, and Alfred realised the coffee had spilled not only on top of the table but over it, and presumably right into Drummond’s lap.

Goddamnit.

“Hey Alfred, let me help.”

The girl was standing up too now and was attempting to clean Drummond’s seat, and the Duchess was tutting loudly and Alfred could feel the judgment being levied his way by the other customers.

What would Drummond think of him?

“Oh Alfred, I’m Florence by the way.”

“So you're Florence. You two make a cute couple.”

Alfred barely even tried to mask the bitterness in his voice but was shocked as Florence hooted and grinned at him.

“Alfred, I’m his step sister.”

 

And she laughed again at the way his eyes widened,

“The only ‘couple’ we are, is a couple of coffee addicts – Edward just can’t get enough of you and your lattes.”

Alfred was somehow blushing even more now, but his heart could have burst, and he felt like running and kissing Drummond, right then and there.

Oh, Mina was going to shout at him, he was sure of it. She’d definitely say ‘I told you so’.

 

When Drummond returned, Alfred and Florence had successfully tackled the coffee spill and were sitting together, sipping their fresh coffees, and Alfred smiled as Drummond’s face lit up before he joined them, sitting close to Alfred and leaning into him, as Alfred leaned closer too, happily breathing in the smell of coffee and Drummond as the conversation washed over him.

Later, once Alfred had reluctantly left the two of them to begin working again, Alfred smiled as Drummond said goodbye and promised to call him when his shift was over, and waved through the window as Drummond and Florence walked away – causing Nancy to tease him relentlessly and Emma to grin for the remainder of the afternoon.


	5. Chapter 5

22nd December

 

It was ten to five and as Alfred pulled his coat tighter, he felt his heart stutter when he saw a lone figure loitering outside the Palace Café.

He pulled out his phone and called Drummond impulsively, practically skipping along the pavement with excitement and giddiness.

“Hello?”

“Drummond! Look down the street!”

Alfred waved causing Drummond to smile and begin walking towards him, phone still in his hand and a smile lighting up his face.

“Good afternoon,”

Alfred said, as the two men neared each other and then pulled one another into a close hug, and Alfred buried his nose in the taller man’s neck and breathed. 

They stood there for a while, and Alfred didn’t want to but still did pull away, as he was aware that he was losing the feeling in his fingertips.

“We should, um, probably go in then.”

Drummond eyed Alfred shyly after that and they walked side by side up to the café’s door, which Alfred swiftly unlocked, desperate to be inside the warmth of the café.

They both silently dropped their bags on one of the nearest tables and glanced at each other, and there was something tangible in the air between that made Alfred bite his lips and blink to clear his head.

“Well Drummond. Why don’t we start by arranging the tables and sorting out the chairs, then we can lay everything out before Franc gets here.”

“Whatever you say, Alfred.”

 

And the two of them got to work, taking down chairs off of tables and moving everything round the room to create a space for dancing and socialising in the centre of the café. 

Alfred thought it was going well as him and Drummond were chatting and smiling, until Alfred noticed a lightbulb in one of the overhead lights had gone out. 

“Drummond, would you catch me if I fell off this chair fixing this bulb?”

He said it lightly and Drummond tilted his head and grinned at him,

“I would certainly endeavour to, Alfred.”

So, Alfred stood up upon a chair and grappled with the lightbulb to replace it, during which Drummond stood behind him, steadying the chair and occasionally brushing Alfred’s leg with his fingertips, distracting Alfred each and every time.

 

But, as Alfred was stepping of the chair, he tripped forwards causing his forehead to collide with the tables edge and for Drummond to shout and grab his waist and shoulder in an attempt to stop him from faceplanting the floor as well.

“Alfred, oh my god, are you okay?”

And Alfred could only groan as he clutched his forehead, thinking just of the inevitable bruise that was going to form there and the fact that he was practically sitting in Drummond’s lap on the floor of the empty café.

Despite his racing heartbeat, he managed to huff out,

“Nothing’s broken, Drummond, worry not.”

Still, Drummond removed Alfred’s hands and looked at the damaged skin, bringing his face so so close to Alfred’s own, that Alfred was overcome with the desire to lean closer to Drummond to close the distance between them.

But, he clenched his fists and stayed still, letting Drummond inspect his wound before he abruptly stood up and asked,

“Where do you keep ice packs? Do you have any?”

Alfred opened an eye, ignoring the pain, and said,

“Go into the kitchen and there’s a first aid cupboard. Next to that, there’s a mini fridge thing. They’re there.”

Alfred rested his head against the edge of the table, as he was still sitting on the floor, and watched Drummond nod and rush into the kitchen before again emerging, ice pack and glass of water in hand.

“Drink this,”

Drummond knelt in front of Alfred and passed him the glass, encouraging him to drink it by tilting it against his lips, and Drummond then gently placed the ice pack against Alfred’s injured forehead, the two men maintaining eye contact as the minutes passed.

 

And just as Drummond was lowering his hand, his eyes focusing on Alfred’s lips, and Alfred, hopeful and a little giddy, lifted his chin, his phone rang, causing them both to jump apart guiltily and for Alfred to rummage in his jacket’s pocket for it as it continued to ring shrilly.

“Hey Albert,”

He saw Drummond stand up and smooth his top before walking away out of his sight, and Alfred withheld from sighing as Albert reminded him to arrange glasses on some of the tables and to wipe them down.

Alfred nodded and ended the call, before standing and stretching and replacing the ice pack on his forehead, regret sweeping through his veins.

 

He’d been excited to spend time alone with Drummond, just like a lovesick teenager Wilhelmina reminded him, and had spent over two hours getting ready with Mina critiquing every outfit he tried on and every style he attempted. 

“Alfred, you’ll never get him if you look like a that.”

He’d been on his third outfit, preening himself in front of the mirror, and she shook her head, dismissing it.

“Mina, I only have so many clothes, he likes me and he’s only ever seen me in uniform.”

“Yeah, and this is a party, so stop trying to continue wearing a uniform and show off to your man.”

Having muttered mutinously over Drummond being labelled ‘his man’, he’d stripped again and raided his wardrobe for yet another ensemble with which to “impress and woo” Drummond, as put by Wilhelmina. 

After gifting her with chocolate in thanks and kissing her on the cheek, Alfred had folded his chosen outfit and put it in his bag, so he could get changed at the café before the party. 

And admittedly so he could spend more time with Drummond.

 

Alfred shook his head and grabbed his bag, heading past Drummond to the staff toilets in order to get changed before everyone arrived, and the two men exchanged smiles as he went, and maybe a light touch on the arm. Or two.

 

-

 

The party was in full swing, with Nancy and the other staff sufficiently tipsy that they no longer felt embarrassed by yelling Christmas songs in the middle of the dimly lit café, fairy lights and a few lamps illuminating their drunken dance moves as the time neared 9:30pm.

Edward had enjoyed the party so far, after embarrassing himself earlier by practically kissing Alfred when he was meant to be looking after him – Edward blushed at the memory.

Alfred had just been so close to him, and he felt like they were now both walking on an icy tightrope, unsure of when they were going to fall off, which would thus change whatever it was between them irrevocably. 

He gulped down the remnants of his third beer and pulled off the Santa hat Alfred had bestowed upon him earlier in the evening, remaining seated at the edge of the makeshift dance floor.

 

After they’d both changed, him and Drummond had finished up organising the room and laying out the drinks before Victoria and Albert arrived, bustling through the door with supplies and presents and even more decorations. The final hour before 7pm was spent cleaning and cooking and perfecting everything, with Victoria hyperventilating and Franc arriving late, yet still managing to rustle together Christmas themed snacks for everyone.

Edward had laughed when Florence arrived, because she’d come through the door and stood there staring at the place, and Alfred in particular, before rushing over to him and squeezing him excitedly and whispering,

“Edward, he is so cute and hot, I love him already,”

and she dragged Edward by the hand to be introduced to a bemused Alfred.

Alfred’s friend – Wilhelmina, or “Mina” as she corrected – turned up soon afterwards and much to both the men’s slight horror, the two women had grinned at one another, grabbed cocktails and sat down together, already chatting and throwing glances at him and Alfred.

 

Then all the staff had arrived, and several other plus ones too, and the party began in earnest with cheesy Christmas songs blaring out for all to dance or awkwardly sway to, and the festivities were fully embraced by all as Santa hats and deely boppers were thrust upon anyone and everyone – even Albert was forced to wear some antlers, causing Harriet and Emma to descend into hysterics.

 

Edward was still sitting by himself when he felt a tap on his shoulder and heard a familiar voice saying,

“I thought I’d cheer you up with a Christmas gift.”

And Alfred sat down beside him and was passing him a small, carefully wrapped, box with a small red bow on top of it, smiling shyly. 

Edward’s heart swelled in response to it all.

 

With shaking fingers, he took the present and began to unwrap it, conscious of Alfred’s gaze filled, no doubt, with nervous apprehension.

As the paper fell away, Edward exclaimed in delight and pulled Alfred into a tight hug, a set of beautiful, expensive cufflinks in the box held in his hand.

“How did you know I wanted some?”

But Alfred only shrugged in response, and his eyes shone bright in the light of the fairy lights, and Edward clutched the box to his chest, thinking they were not the only thing that he thought was beautiful.

 

“My turn.” 

Edward twisted to reach for the box beside him on the seat and placed it in Alfred’s lap, biting the inside of his cheek, awaiting Alfred’s reaction.

Alfred was slower to unwrap his gift, choosing instead to gently pull apart the wrapping paper and to fold it neatly, and it was only after a minute or so that the plain gift box was revealed.

His lip quirked, and he looked at Edward, whose brows had by now furrowed, and Alfred opened the box to find a pair of socks saying “Brew-dolph” with Rudolph holding some beer, to which both men snorted, and underneath that there were several cigars, and Alfred hugged Edward fiercely before standing up and inclining his head to the door, saying,

“Care to share in some bad habits?”

And Edward was moving before he’d even nodded, but neither of them made it out of the café’s door for Nancy had accosted Alfred and pulled him over to the counter, declaring, as her two boys were already sharing presents, it was time for the café’s Secret Santa.

Alfred helplessly turned to Edward as he retreated to his seat, but Edward couldn’t bring himself to mind. You couldn’t have everything he supposed, and Harriet’s uncharacteristic squealing when presented with Alfred’s gift was somewhat of a substitute.

 

“It’s a party Edward, get up and dance!”

Florence looked down at him from where she wobbled in her heels, clearly a little tipsy, and Edward brought up his hands to defend himself,

“I’m fine just sitting Florence, you know I can’t dance very well.”

She dramatically sighed and collapsed into a nearby chair, eyeing the gift in his hand.

“Pretty boy splashed out, didn’t he?”

“Oh shut it.”

Yet Edward grinned to himself, prompting a groan from Florence.

“You two are disgustingly cute by the way, I cannot handle it.”

“God Florence, you sound like we’re already boyfriends.”

“You two are close to it, from the way Wilhelmina was talking.”

 

At that, Edward locked eyes with Florence who wiggled her eyebrows at him,

“Yeah, Edward, Alfred’s best friend has confirmed he is head over heels for you. A shock, I know.”

But even her sarcasm couldn’t dent the lightness in Edward’s chest, and he caught Alfred’s eye as the man continued to be swamped by gifts and chatter across the café.

“We don’t even know each other that well.”

He mumbled it, and, due to the increasingly volume of the music, she leaned in before her facial expression softened.

“Edward, you have a connection, okay.”

She smiled gently then,

“You’ll get to know one another soon, but you need to have a deep connection for it to work out. And you two have that.”

Edward could have scorned that sentiment, but he bit his tongue momentarily before quipping,

“And how many successful relationships have you been in?”

And she wacked him on the head as she stood up and pulled him from his seat, ignoring his protests in the name of fun and all things festive.

 

His attempts at dancing were, however, short lived, despite Florence’s insistence, as he soon spotted Alfred leaning over the café’s counter grinning mischievously at him and beckoning him with his finger.

How could he resist.

 

“Drummond, you seemed in need of rescuing, so I thought I’d make you a festive drink.”

As he was met with confused silence, Alfred then continued,

“Pick one to humour me.”

Without questioning it further, Edward scanned the menu and selected a cinnamon hot chocolate – which would hopefully counteract his alcohol intake for the evening.

Alfred set to work, grinning and frustratingly biting a candy cane which lay beside the till as a snack.

And placing it in front of Edward, Alfred sprinkled the drink with cocoa powder and stepped back, hands on his hips as he watched Edward carefully but with a sparkle in his eyes.

The mug was hot against his fingertips and he almost spilled it as he brought the mug to his lips, sipping it and grinning despite himself, the chocolate and cinnamon combining perfectly on his tongue - though perhaps it was too hot at the moment. Not that he’d say that to Alfred.

“Delicious.”

He placed the mug back onto the counter top and put his weight onto his elbows, leaning forwards as Alfred reached to take a sip of the drink too.

 

The two men were so close now, Edward could hear Alfred hum as he tasted the drink, and once he’d put the mug to one side, Alfred too rested on the counter, bringing their faces within inches of each other’s.

“Hello,”

Edward breathed, the noise of the party fading away as he focused on Alfred’s face, the curve of his nose, his cheekbones…

“Hi.”

The response drew Edward’s eyes down to Alfred’s lips and he inhaled as Alfred bit his lip.

“Did you know that…”

Alfred muttered into the space between them, his voice more ragged than before, and Edward leaned closer.

“You happen to be sporting the most adorable froth moustache? And would you care for me to remove it?”

 

Edward had jerked back in embarrassment, and raised his hand to wipe at his lips, before stopping at Alfred’s last question and tone.

Edward returned to his previous position then, heart beat loud in his ears, as Alfred quickly licked his lips continued,

“There is mistletoe above us after all.”

He cast his eyes upwards to see there was indeed mistletoe above them and Alfred placed a finger on Edward’s face prompting Edward to, once again, gaze at Alfred.

 

The air between them stilled and Edward noticed, as Alfred drew his finger along his jaw, that Alfred… was just so…

He sighed as his brain stuttered and Alfred cupped the back of his neck, closing the space between them… 

 

“I come bearing gifts fit for the Queen herself!”

The two men jumped apart as Franc barrelled through the kitchen and into the café, carrying two trays ladened with food, and proclaiming so to many loud cheers. 

Edward helplessly caught Alfred’s eye who smiled at him sheepishly, and Edward rubbed the back of his neck, just as Florence came and grabbed his elbow, pulling him into the fray, leaving Alfred dazed behind the counter.

 

-

 

“You were totally going to kiss him, weren’t you?”

Alfred starts as Emma nudges him with her elbow, and looked over to where Drummond and Florence were hovering at the edge of the dance floor.

“Who do you take me for, Emma?”

She laughed at that and smiled even wider, and the two of them faced each other behind the counter.

“You know, I knew it was going to happen.”

She said it quietly, so just Alfred could hear.

“Nancy made bets like a week ago that you two would kiss sooner or later, so of course I bet you would last till new year.”

“And Nancy?”

“Oh, she said Christmas.”

 

Alfred bit his lip at that, thinking of explaining to her all the times he’d wanted to catch Drummond’s lips with his own, the temptation to do so growing as they spent more and more time with one another, and all Alfred ever wanted to do was to kiss Drummond goodbye when they parted.

But he settled for saying,

“You didn’t know me though, how could you have been so sure we’d click.”

“Your application, remember? Victoria had us read them all, so she’d only hire someone who’d get on with the whole team.”

Harriet interjected then, as she rounded the corner to give Emma a glass of some alcoholic concoction and a mince pie,

“Remember, we knew Drummond. And Nancy was desperate to set you two up.”

“What!”

The two women chuckled as Alfred felt his cheek blaze, indignation rising, and Emma grinned,

“Why on earth do you think you got to give him so much free cake?”

“We had to get Victoria’s permission to swap your shifts around and we paid for the cake ourselves.”

Harriet smiled as she spoke and Alfred felt embarrassed, but also a surge of affection for the both of them – he may not have acted as quickly by himself.

His love life was being orchestrated by his colleague’s and his best friend. Alfred had a lot of thank you gifts to buy… if all went as he hoped.

 

It was nearing 11:00pm and although everyone was enjoying themselves, the party was rounding up, with Albert beginning to scowl at everyone who wasn’t Victoria, and Nancy and Francatelli trading soft kisses with one another by the window, oblivious to the squealing of the other staff.

Alfred himself was grinning at the two of them, as he had suspected he wasn’t the only one to find a crush at the café, and it was then that a slow song came on, and Drummond caught his eye across the café.

 

Alfred swallowed the lump in his throat and began to walk, one foot in front of the other, over to Drummond, who, in turn, was moving towards him as if pulled by a thread.

They faced one another then, and it felt natural for Alfred to place his hands around Drummond’s neck and, with hesitation, Drummond lightly placed his hands on Alfred’s hips, the two of them swaying to the song’s soft melody.

The café had gotten quieter by that point, with the couples in the room tasting the romance that was tangible in the air, and Victoria and Albert moved to the centre of the room, and Nancy danced with Franc, her head cradled against his chest.

 

Alfred could hear Drummond’s heartbeat, as he too rested his head against the chest of the taller man, and he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt… like that, as Drummond bent his head so that his face was nestled in Alfred’s hair and Alfred felt a light kiss being placed on the top of his head.

They continued to move together, swaying side to side, listening to one another’s heartbeat, and too soon the song was ending, its final notes falling over the entranced occupants of the café.

Yet, Alfred and Drummond stood suspended together, and Alfred lifted his head to share in Drummond’s breaths, and Drummond bent his neck so their foreheads rested together in the silence before the next song began.

 

Then, they moved apart, though Alfred felt the connection between them remained unbroken, as Drummond soon stepped closer to stand hip to hip with him and together they began to say goodbye to the guests who were already leaving, wanting to set off before the snow outside get too heavy.

 

“Look at you two, quite the sweet pair,”

Victoria smiled at them both and touched Alfred’s arm, and she and Albert turned to thank the people next to them whilst Alfred bumped shoulders with Drummond and tried to not hyperventilate as Drummond looked down at him, eyes bright and overwhelming.

 

“Do you two want a lift home?”

Harriet approached him and Drummond, with Emma in tow, and the two women hugged them and kissed their cheeks.

“I think we’re good Harriet.”

Drummond said it casually, but his hand tightened where it was resting on Alfred’s hip, pulling him minutely closer, and Emma flashed a grin at Alfred before saying goodbye once more and heading out into the snow.

 

After a few more minutes of cheerful goodbyes and thank yous, Nancy came over tipsy and laughing to plant a sloppy kiss on Alfred’s cheek, stage whispering,

“Me and Franc will lock up, have fun.”

Despite himself, Alfred laughed, and Drummond did too after tensing besides Alfred.

“Thanks Nancy, have a good Christmas.”

“You too, boys.”

 

Reluctantly, Alfred pulled away after that, but not before pressing a light kiss to Drummond’s shoulder, and he went to retrieve his bag and coat and presents from the edge of the room.

And after a moments pause, he saw Drummond shake his head and do the same. 

 

“Can I walk you home?”

Alfred said it quietly as the two men closed the door behind them, bags on their shoulders, snowflakes drifting into their hair and alcohol and excitement in their veins.

“I’d like that.”

 

And they set off, and Alfred, feeling buoyed by the festive spirit and the look in Drummond’s eye, reached down to take Drummond’s hand in his own.

 

“So, what are your plans for Christmas then?”

Alfred was deliberately walking slowly, trying to spend as much of the evening with Drummond as possible, chatting and watching the snow fall.

“Well,”

Drummond pondered for a few seconds before shrugging.

“I’m not entirely sure. I’m not going to my mum’s, so I think I’m going over to Florence’s, at least for part of the day. What about you, Alfred?”

It was his turn now to think, and despite Christmas only being a handful of days away, he still had to talk it over with his parents but for now – 

“I think I may be staying here, maybe a bit of time with Wilhelmina, maybe up at my parents. Who knows.”

 

Alfred mulled over his plans for the coming week in the silence that followed their exchange, gently swinging him and Drummond’s hands as they meandered through the silent streets. 

It was Drummond who broke the silence, saying,

“You’re welcome at mine anytime Alfred. You know that right.”

“Thank you, Drummond, and the same can be said for you at my house. I think Wilhelmina loves you more than she does me.”

That made Drummond chuckle, and Alfred’s heart swelled at the sound of it, drunk on it as Drummond smiled and tipped back his head, catching some snow on his tongue.

 

And Alfred did the same, trying to catch snowflakes on his outstretched tongue and briefly closing his eyes, praying not to walk into a lamp post or slip on any ice, both of which would be thoroughly embarrassing. 

But he soon felt a tug on his hand and slowed to a halt, and the two of them stopped outside of Drummond’s accommodation, their hands still clasped between them.

 

“This is me,”

Drummond said, and Alfred couldn’t help but remember the last time he’d been here, outside on this pavement, and how wrong it had gone in a matter of minutes.

It was as if Drummond had caught the tenor of his thoughts, as he frowned and placed a hand on Alfred’s arm, smoothing his thumb over the fabric of his sleeve. 

 

That gesture, so small, calmed Alfred’s nerves and sudden worries – things had changed over the past couple of days and… whatever it was between them had changed.

The way they looked at one another had shifted and somehow, they’d moved together into unfamiliar territory - he knew that what he was feeling from a simple touch on the arm proved it clearly, yet it had all suddenly become so clear. 

He leaned into Drummond’s touch then to steady himself, and looked out around the street, saying softly,

“Winter evenings are so enchanting; don’t you think Edward?”

 

And Edward’s thumb stilled on Alfred’s arm causing Alfred to turn and face Edward, only to have his face cradled by two hands and Edward’s bright eyes widening as he paused, bit his lip then surged forwards, just as Alfred, heart pounding in his ears and skin singing at the contact, tipped forwards too.

Their lips met for the first time, and they both shared a gentle kiss, out there on the pavement, cold noses brushing each other’s cheeks and their breaths, visible out in the cold, mixed together as they broke apart, chests heaving, only to drop their bags and come together again, lips against lips, chest to chest.

 

And, although Alfred’s fingers were cold as they curled into Edward’s heavy coat, his heart had never felt so warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the love and support this has gotten - its made my heart happy, and I hope this fic made you happy too! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of love to you all!


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